


A Slice of Bad Luck (Shaken Up)

by itsamagicalplace



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Academy Era, American Diner, F/M, Pizza, philinda bad days
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-12
Updated: 2015-08-12
Packaged: 2018-04-14 08:34:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4557858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsamagicalplace/pseuds/itsamagicalplace
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Phil drops the pizza he's been looking forward to all day, and Melinda makes everything a little bit better.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Slice of Bad Luck (Shaken Up)

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the fuckyeahphilinda event on Tumblr: Philinda Bad Days

Phil Coulson was having a bad day.

He had slept poorly the night before, his alarm hadn’t woken him on time that morning, he’d had to rush like crazy to get ready, and then had spent the entire day doing mock exams.

_Rubbish._

He’d spent the latter half of his day dreaming about how it could possibly get worse, and, when the final bell sounded and signalled freedom from the hell that was a three-hour timed essay on _“The Pro’s and Con’s of Listing Gifted Individuals on the Index”_ , he had practically ran from the hall, his stomach growling, and headed off into the cool evening to find some joy.

He wanted pizza.

His stomach had been growling for at least the past two hours, and he was well aware that there was a very nice small take-out pizzeria a couple of streets from campus. It was a favourite of cadets, and the staff had a habit of remembering exactly what each customer usually ordered.

Extra cheese, with pepperoni, chicken, mushrooms and onion.

He could practically taste it as he walked, crunching through the autumn leaves and across the campus gates. The thick, rich tomato sauce. The fluffy, light dough base. The creamy goodness of an excessive quantity of cheese.

He licked his lips, and rounded the corner.

The flickering lights of the takeout at the end of the street came into view, and Phil stepped up his pace, knowing the faster he got there, the sooner he would be able to get back to his dorm and eat.

Climbing up the two front steps, Phil pushed the glass door open, and a little bell above it pinged to signify to the owner that another customer had arrived.

The smell of freshly baking pizza wafted across him, and he fought hard not to close his eyes and just enjoy the warm, homely scent.

“Phil” called out the girl at the desk, smiling broadly at him as he wandered over to her. He passed a couple of customers currently waiting for their orders. “Same as usual?”

He nodded with a small smile. “Yes please, thanks Cam.”

She called his order through to the kitchen, glancing up at the flickering lights above them with a frown.

“You might just get this pizza in time,” she told him, ringing up his order on the till. “Looks like we could be losing power at some point tonight.”

Phil agreed, and silently thanked his grumbling stomach for getting him here as quickly as it had.

“So how’ve you been Phil?” she continued, once he’d paid, and was waiting for his meal to be cooked. “Not seen you in here for a while!”

“Been trying to cut back” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. “Finals are in a few months, and I need to be at peak condition for my physical.”

“Mmhmm” she smirked in response, eyeing him up and down, and Phil felt a slight blush creep to his neck.

Each time he came to the takeout, Camilla became more and more friendly towards him. And sure, she was attractive, but right now, he just… wasn’t interested. Clint kept telling him to “lighten up” and just “go for it”, but unlike Barton and his disregard for most rules, Phil wasn’t really the kind of guy to just have a “bit of fun” with a fellow cadet. There was only one person on campus he could see himself with, and the chances of that happening were… slim.

Another customer entering gave Phil the excuse to step back from the counter, and continue his daydreams about unrealistic prospects concerning one particular trainee agent.

It wasn’t long before he saw the familiar red cardboard box being brought out, his name scrawled across it in black sharpie pen, and his order was announced.

He took it gratefully, waving a sheepish goodbye to Camilla as he left, before stepping out of the shop, and back onto the streets. It was cooling off quickly, and as he wrapped his jacket a little closer around himself with his free hand, Phil was reminded how close they were to it being winter.

And as soon as the New Year arrived, he was in his graduation year.

That was a terrifying and exciting thought.

Phil fought hard to resist the urge to reach into the box and take a slice as he walked, internally assuring himself it would be worth the wait, if he could just get back to his dorm room.

He smiled, and rounded the corner at the end of the street, expecting to see the lights of the academy at the end of the road. Instead, he lept back in shock, as a mass of black hair and sports clothing ran straight around the corner at the exact same time, crashing into him with a muffled yelp.

Phil called out, losing his balance, and watched in almost slow motion as the red box he’d had balanced to precariously on his hand wobbled, before dropping to the ground, bouncing open, and dispersing slices of pizza all over the tarmac.

“Nooo” he moaned, looking in despair at his ruined meal. He’d been so looking forward to it.

“I am so sorry” the other person told him, and he looked up to find himself face to face with fellow cadet Melinda May. Phil swallowed, suddenly very aware of how close together they were.

“It’s…” he trailed for words, watching as she pulled out her headphones with a concerned look, before bending down to check if any of the pizza had remained in the box.

It hadn’t.

“Don’t say it’s okay” she murmured, shaking her head and sighing. “It isn’t. I’m so sorry.” She stood back up and frowned, glancing back down the road behind him. “Have you just bought this?”

Phil nodded, a little lost for words at the realisation his “schoolboy crush” as Clint had called it, was definitely coming out in full force.

“Come on, I’ll buy you another one.”

“You don’t have to,” he replied, gathering the slices off the street and returning them to the box. “I’ll just… find something on campus.”

She raised her eyebrows at him. “I insist.”

With that she walked away, towards the pizza takeout, and Phil could do no more than throw his ruined box into the bin across the road, and follow her.

He caught up, and the two walked side by side along the street.

They were silent for a while, although Phil was pretty sure that her mind wasn’t currently filled with attempts to begin a conversation with somebody they were kind of in awe of.

“How did your mocks go?” Melinda asked instead, rolling her headphones around her iPod, and stuffing them into her back pocket.

Phil nodded. “Yeah, I think they were alright thanks, how about yours?”

She shrugged, stepping around a leftover puddle from that morning’s rain. “Okay, I guess. Good preparation for the real thing.”

Phil agreed silently, and as they neared the pizza place, a bad feeling settled within him.  

A small group of customers was gathered outside, groaning and mumbling at each other. As Phil and Melinda neared the front of the crowd, they could see what the problem was.

The lights inside the building were off, and Camilla was currently taping a sign to the front window:

“CLOSED DUE TO POWER FAILURE.”

Melinda muttered something under her breath, and Phil sighed.

“It doesn’t matter” he told her, trying to smile and alleviate some of her guilt. “It happened, and there’s nothing that can be done.”

“How’d you fancy going to that American Diner across the village? I need to eat too.”

“I…” Phil swallowed again.

Melinda May was asking him to have dinner with her.

In a restaurant.

Just the two of them.

Suddenly the loss of his pizza didn’t seem so bad.

* * *

The warmth of the diner was instantly welcoming to him as Phil walked through the front door with Melinda.

The replicating pattern of black and white chequered floor almost made his eyes swim, and Phil found himself blinking several times to stop the image spotting in front of his eyes as they waited by the front desk to be seated.

“Hey guys, I’m Angie,” a young server announced, bouncing over to greet them at the entrance. “Can I show you to a table?”

They both nodded in unison, and Angie led them across the floor, past the glittering bar area where Phil noticed some of the younger cadets consuming cocktails he was pretty sure they weren’t old enough to drink, and into the restaurant area.

She led the two of them over to one of the only empty spots in the room - a booth, with seats made of bright turquoise leather that squeaked as the two of them sat down. They slid across them until they faced each other, and Phil consciously removed his jacket, the warmth from both the diner, and from the knowledge he was on a date - no, it was not a date - with Melinda May, helping to boil him alive.

“Can I get you both some menus?” Angie asked, a beaming smile on her face as she glanced between the pair of them. Melinda nodded in response, and they were both handed a laminated card with every meal listed on it. “I’ll be back in a sec to take your drinks order.”

Phil thanked her, before letting his eyes skim down the page in front of him. There was a pretty large selection of dishes to pick from, but to be perfectly honest, he couldn’t concentrate properly, and found his gaze continuously flicking back up to the person opposite him.

“Have you been before?” Melinda asked him, obviously mistaking his distraction for uncertainty.

He shook his head.

“No, but I guess you have?”

She nodded.

“Recommend anything?” Phil continued, tilting his head slightly to the side as he spoke, and watching as a small smile lit up her face.

“The milkshakes are pretty good.”

Phil glanced through the selection, suddenly very interested. “Chocolate or strawberry?”

“Chocolate of course” she grinned back, as though it was the only acceptable answer to his question.

“My kind of girl” he replied with a laugh, before freezing, wondering how he’d let the words fall out of his mouth so easily.

He was spared the awkwardness of any response that would shoot him down by the return of Angie, who happily noted down that they wanted two large chocolate milkshakes - with extra whipped cream on top - and a selection of dishes for them to share, including one large extra-everything pizza, one burger with a side of curly fries, and a basket of garlic bread.

Phil raised his eyebrows at the latter, but Melinda shrugged.

“It’s good” was all she told him.

He took her word for it.

“You looking forward to graduating?” Phil asked, after Angie had left them alone, and gone to order in their meals.

Melinda nodded, slowly nibbling on a breadstick from the jar in the centre of the table.

“Yes and no. I want to be out there, in the field, doing what we’ve been trained to since day one.”

“But?” Phil asked, knowing there was a second part to her statement.

“But,” she agreed, licking a crumb off her lower lip (Phil swallowed hard, and tried to focus on her eyes instead), “If we’re out there, it’s real.”

He sat and thought about what she’d said. She was right, in the obvious sense of course, that once they left the academy, they were in the big wide world, assessing situations and completing assignments. They were alone. And things wouldn’t always get fixed by a lecturer or trainer if they went wrong for real.

“Are you worried?” he asked instead, not sure how to word what he was thinking.

“No. But it’s dangerous, and I don’t think I registered how much until now.”

Angie returned to their table once more, depositing two paper coasters in front of them, followed by tall glasses filled with rich, creamy milkshake, droplets of condensation pooling on the outside of the glass.

They looked amazing, and all thoughts of the previous conversation left Phil’s head.

Phil sipped a small amount through his straw, tasting whether the concoction inside was as good as it looked, and sighed happily, as the cold thick chocolate hit his taste buds.

“Told you” Melinda murmured, sipping from her own with the straw, and watching him with a small smirk.

“You were right” he agreed, swirling the cream around on the top with his straw. He debated for a moment, before lifting the glass, and taking a deeper swig of it directly. The milkshake was probably one of the best he had ever tasted.

Setting the glass back down onto the table in front of him, he looked around at the diner, wondering how in all the time he’d been at the academy, he hadn’t once been inside.

Melinda giggled slightly, and he turned back to face her with a mixture of confusion and wonder on his face.

She never giggled, or, he’d never heard her giggle anyway.

In class she was always focused, determined, and sometimes downright scary. It’s what seemed to draw him to her so much. But hearing her laugh, it filled him with a strange sense of wonder, and lightness, and joy.

Until he realised she was laughing  _at_  him.

“What?” Phil asked, suddenly a little self-conscious of himself.

“You have cream all over your face.”

He reached up to touch his face, and sure enough, his fingers made contact with a layer of whipped cream, settled just above his upper lip.

_Damn._

So much for not making a fool of himself.

Melinda handed a napkin to him across the table, the smile still not gone from her face, and Phil took it with a bashful thanks, dabbing the mess from his face.

“Sorry” he mumbled, screwing the napkin up into a ball and placing it back on the table.

“For what?”

Phil looked at her, unable to explain. He was sorry he was making a bit of a muppet of himself? He was sorry he wasn’t one of the cool athletic cadets who seemed completely natural at social situations with girls? He was sorry he hadn’t got to know her so much sooner than the term before they left for good?

He shrugged in response instead.

* * *

 

“I told you, you didn’t have to pay” Phil complained, for about the fifth time since Melinda had handed over a few notes to Angie, after they’d finished their meals.

“And I told you,” she replied, shaking her head with a small smile. “I made you drop your pizza, so this was on me.”

The two of them were walking back down the street and away from the bright lights of the diner, heading towards the academy that they would only call home for another few months.

“Well,” Phil murmured, glancing across to her. “Thank you.”

Melinda nodded at him, and turned back to face the road ahead.

Phil walked in time with her, wondering what he should say when they got back to the campus. Before tonight, they had hardly even spent a huge deal of time together anyway, but within the space of a couple of hours, they had met up, been for a meal together, laughed over milkshakes, and shared a portion of curly fries. And now they were walking home together.

He was a little overwhelmed.

He glanced over to her again, surreptitiously, and watched how the moonlight was bouncing off the dark sheen of her hair. She was effortlessly beautiful, and after getting to know her better tonight, Phil had realised that she wasn’t as intimidating as he had always thought she was. He’d spent the past few years watching her from afar, sharing a couple of classes, trainer with a few of the same teachers.

“You’re staring” she murmured, not looking at him, and Phil felt a blush creep into his cheeks.

_Busted._

“Sorry.”

She shook her head a little, but Phil was sure she was smiling.

They walked slowly through the front gates of the academy campus, the lights above the gate illuminating them both, and the gravelly path below their feet.

Phil felt another internal conflict arising - should he walk her to her dorm?

He knew full well that Melinda May was perfectly capable of fighting off any potential threat that should arise in her vicinity - he’d seen her training in the gym many a time. But it was the gentlemanly thing to do, and he liked to consider himself - despite his current career choice - as a gentleman.

“Can I…” he began, stuttering slightly over his words. “Can I walk you to your room?”

The corner of her mouth turned upwards, and she opened her mouth to speak, but before she could reply there was a yell of “COULSON!” from across the courtyard, and both turned their heads to see who it was.

Clint ran over to them, oblivious to everything, and stopped, a little out of breath, clapping Phil on the shoulder.

“Where’ve you been Coulson? Garrett has set up a beer pong table and we need you to adjudicate!”

Melinda gave him a small smile. “Looks like you’re needed elsewhere. I’ll see you around, Coulson.” She nodded to Clint, before turning away from them both, and walking back towards the female dorms.

Phil stared helplessly after her, doing a half wave he instantly regretted, before sighing, and turning to Clint.

“Thanks Barton, really appreciate that.”

“What?” he asked, clueless, before glancing towards the retreating form of Melinda. “Oh, I mean, were you two gonna…?” he gestured a little crudely, widening his eyes with a slight smirk.

Phil sighed, shaking his head. “Never mind. Where’s this game you want me to play?”

Clint was going to have to sleep with one eye open for the foreseeable future.


End file.
